Mere moments before walking out the door yesterday for church, I heard Marissa gasp. She nearly started crying. I thought maybe she'd stubbed a toe or dropped something fragile. But no. It was something Aidan had done.
He'd discovered an unguarded bottle of blue laundry detergent on the floor. Unguarded and unprotected against the schemings of a three-year-old explorer. After discovery, he'd examined it, up close and personal, all over the rug by the back door. So, Marissa did what any hurried parent in such a situation would do: she bundled up the rug and tossed it into the washer. And then smilingly reprimanded her son for "making a mess with blue soap."
As we finally piled into the van, Aidan, with a big smile, proudly announced, "I'm Mr. Blue Soap!!"